You See
by manyissues101
Summary: -Angel story, possible tearjerker- What do you see when you look at me walking down the street?


What do you see when you look at me walking down the street? If I'm drumming then you see a poor Mexican boy with a shaved head and little talent. You don't even listen to my music, you just write me off as lacking musical aptitude.

You see me dressed up. You see a drag queen, attracting stares and glares from all the wrong people. You see a freak, someone unfit to share the streets with you. You don't try to get to know the person behind the makeup; you just scoff and don't try to understand.

You see me with my boyfriend, hugging and kissing. Or maybe you see us laughing, my soprano to his tenor. You see a gay couple, trying to live in peace but still not accepted by most of the community. You see us trying to make the most with what we've been given instead of asking why we have to endure the abuse. You don't try to learn about our relationship, or us, instead you only see the stereotyped gay couple.

You see me in Life Support meetings sometimes, as you walk in and out of the auditorium to get a better look. You see a scared, lonely, and confused man who just wants to fit in and save his dignity. But you don't care for my dignity or my story, you just see another person with AIDS.

You see me everyday, and everyday you get more and more disgusted. You get mad at my lifestyle because you simply don't understand. You see people pushing me, spitting at me, and talking down to me, and you wonder why you don't do the same. You don't see the pain in my eyes or hear the panic in my voice. All you see is me getting what you think I deserve.

You see me lying on the ground, panting and bleeding from your last blow. You see that I can't scream for help or defend myself. You see a poor, Hispanic homosexual with AIDS who can't do anything at all. You see me get the wind knocked from my chest and you see your foot threatening to crush my windpipes. You don't see how my eyes bulge or the tears falling onto the cold, unwelcoming concrete. You don't see the way I whisper my goodbyes to my loved ones.

You see them wheel me into the hospital, passed out. You see the nurses around me, some looking concerned, some looking disgusted, and others looking amused. You go inside to see them trying to find identification and trying to get my color back. You see people staring and whispering as they always do. You see a job well done.

You see them take my body from the hospital, wrapped in an unfriendly bag. You see no one around, and it makes you laugh. You assume that my boyfriend has dumped me. You see me dead, with lesions all over my body, and it makes you laugh. You see a dead, poor, Hispanic homosexual with AIDS. And it makes you laugh.

You never saw my friends and boyfriend weeping over my body as I took unsteady breathes. You never saw Mimi paint my nails, or Roger try to help me play my pickle tub, or Maureen make outfits with me, or Joanne talking to me for hours about gay rights, or Mark showing bits and pieces of his secret documentary, or Benny come in to try and get to know me, or Collins hold me when I couldn't do anything but cry. You never saw any of that. How could you?

My name is Angel Dumott Schunard.

I'm a Hispanic street drummer, a drag queen, a homosexual, and an AIDS victim.

You're everyone I've ever met.

I do not own the wonder that is RENT.

Zomg, I can't believe I just did that! weeps

Also, I know of a really great website,  and I think that you should all go join. And, while you're at it, say that you were referred by manyissues101ali, cause it would be a great help to me if you did!

That was…really sad. And it shocked me too. I was going to write something happy and fluffy. This isn't happy. This isn't fluffy. But I like it.

If you've read a lot of my stuff, then you'll find that I like 'reoccurring themes', so to speak. Like the 'you see' thing here. I like writing that kind of stuff.

I hope you like it. And, please, if you're going to favorite it then review. I can understand if you don't know what to say, but please just review and tell me that. Criticism is welcome too. A review's a review, eh?


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